


leave the flowers to the pond

by JustCharlieBruh



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: 4'8" and ready to fight, Gen, Kit's also sort of blind to the fact that Ortega and the others care about them, Kit's got a lot of pent up rage but is also v soft, non-binary sidestep - Freeform, the others being the other rangers bc how in the heck can your enemies care for you, this is experimental and hopefully okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 02:00:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18085262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustCharlieBruh/pseuds/JustCharlieBruh
Summary: Despite what Ortega says, the world will never be as bright as she describes it. Not to you. You’re far too used to darkness now, light long-forgotten— You’re not even sure if it’s a part of your vocabulary anymore.





	leave the flowers to the pond

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello, the title comes from a poem named "Narcassist Poison" by Davey Mac, it's really good and also fits, I find. I also made a character playlist for Kit, so if you ever want to listen to that, let me know on [ my tumblr ](http://justcharliebruh.tumblr.com)

Drifting along with the crowd is what you do best. A human hive-mind cloaking something as inhumane as you, it’s the best way to hide. It’s the best way to pretend that the red on your hands is just the acts of your rage, of your blood, coming to the surface and not someone else’s, someone innocent. 

It’s commendable. Your ability to deny so hard that it shifts your world view. After all, you denied  _their_  torture, didn’t you? Pretended to play along long enough until you could raise yourself above them and strike them down with the rage that you cling to even now. Nausea rises in your throat as you pass the Ranger’s headquarters. For a moment, you want to go inside. You want to slip in and bask in the comfort of almost-familiarity. You want to bask in Ortega’s anger at this newfound villain naming themself Sidestep. 

(Sidestep has _always_ been your name; you refuse to let anyone take from you ever again.)

Rage has always brought you the warmth that promised safety never could. 

* * *

If Eden were to see you, to truly awaken and  _see_ you, she’d call you arrogant. You’d scoff in return. It’s so easy now to imagine the banter between you, to separate yourself in twain and pretend that she wouldn’t just try to run from you in horror at the things you’ve used her body to do.

Or she might not, you humor yourself. You never did learn of her backstory, of why she was left there in that hospital, surrounded by wilted flowers delivered to—

Eden.

Why change a good name? It’s better in the long run, better to be able to respond on the off chance that someone from her past actually recognizes her. You take a moment to run bandaged fingers through teal strands as she sleeps. You shouldn’t be here, but you know where the spare key has been put and you can mold the memories of any neighbors to your choosing. The one thing about making Eden become friends with those around her is that they actually  _care_  about her. For a moment, you pretend that it’s you and not Eden. That it’s  _you_ these neighbors care about, that you actually have friends here. 

But then, you do, don’t you? You have the crew, you have Marcia. They seem to care about you.

You can’t help but let the rage simmer down and smile to yourself in the darkness of Eden’s living room. You wrap yourself in it, let the darkness settle against your clothes (not your skin never your skin) and breathe.   
  
You have to admit, it’s a bit ironic that what once was your torment has turned into your solitude. You prefer darkness now, only allowing dim light where light is needed because light itself? Shows too much. It destroys the illusion, leaves lies bare and open and unable to change to fit their needed mold.

At least in the darkness, you don’t have to worry about who sees you.


End file.
